Career Day
by simply just being
Summary: It's Career Day Mason takes a ballet lesson to get to his reap, Roxy and George handle sidekicks at work, Daisy’s reap seems to know her and Rube finds out that the waffle house is closing. Oneshot, or whatever the heck you call it.


Description: It's Career Day; Mason takes a ballet lesson to get to his reap, Roxy and George handle side-kicks at work, Daisy's reap seems to know her and Rube finds out that the waffle house is closing.

wow. i REALLY enjoyed writing this one...

(note – the first part is in present tense because it is an introduction. The rest is all in past tense)

Career Day

It's early morning and Georgia's walking down the street to the meet the other reapers at the waffle house. She fiddles with her beige jacket in the cold air and comes to a stop, her head tilted to the side. She stands and watches as a girl on a bench across the street puts on dark red lipstick and glares into a pocket mirror with an unsure look. The woman seems to be oblivious to anything thing else until a teenager bumps into her and spills coffee on her shirt. She yells in aggravation and the two start to fight.

Voiceover: Nobody ever really likes their age. It's weird, because the younger we are, the older we want to be. Then we spend all of our time wishing we were older – and we get old. We take one look in the mirror and, hey, we want to be young again. You'd think that people could just be happy that they even lived that long, with death rolling around everywhere. What the fuck's up with that?

When I was younger, I was solely convinced that I wanted to have my own life and live by my own standards - not my mom's. Hell, who doesn't? I wanted to be in control, to seize the moment, to do something with myself…

Then I got hit by a toilet seat from the space station. What a screwed way to die. And now I'm just being pushed along, living among everybody else. Well, not really. I can't be alive because I'm technically undead. However the fuck that makes any sense at all.

I basically got what I'd wanted, whether I still wanted it or not. I'm on my own. Well, not really; I still have Rube, Roxy, Daisy and Mason. But I still wonder from time to time; would I have given in to all that crap just like everybody else? Would I have become some superficial ditzy moron? God, that sounds pathetic.

(End of voiceover) George turns around and steps through the doors to the waffle house. The booths are somewhat crowded with people and Rube waves her over to where the group is settled. She slumps down, looking around.

"This isn't where we usually sit," She notes in her usual sarcastic tone, resting her arms on the table. Mason holds a small half-crumpled, yellow piece of paper out in front of him, looking a little worried. Daisy purses her lips in a sweet way, drumming her fingers on the table.

"Hey Mary Sue," The policewoman glares at the blonde actress, annoyed, "drumming your fingers like a wood-worker isn't gonna make the food come any faster."

"Somebody took our usual booth," Rube replies to the earlier comment with a certain tone of authority, "Where've you been, peanut?"

"I over-slept. My alarm clock didn't go off this morning because the time was wrong. I think I have to reset it but I don't have a clue how to do that." George half closes her eyes, watching Daisy continue to drum her fingers on the table. "I need to get a new alarm clock. One that comes with a manual."

"I'm really hungry," Daisy glances over to the kitchen, then turns to look at the ever-silent Mason. Rube hands George a post-it and looks over to him too.

"You must be fucking kidding me, Rube. This isn't fair!" He starts to fidget and Georgia leans over to read the information on his reap. She gives a laugh, slapping him on the shoulder in pity. His reap was at Sola's Ballet Institute.

"I'll be interesting to see you in a tutu, Mason. I'll need my camera for this one," Roxy smiles, then turns to glare yet again at the actress.

"I need my blueberry pancakes…" Daisy thinks aloud, looking at her own post-it. Rube checks his watch and gives a sigh.

"I've got somewhere to be – I may as well head off." He states, wrapping an elastic band over his black book. Roxy and Daisy shift to let him out. He's about to walk out, but stops at the sight of a sign on the door. His face forms a frown before he walks out.

"So…" George starts, glancing around at all the people, "why's it so busy today?" Mason is still staring at his post-it with a shocked expression.

"It's career day." Roxy answers, looking out the window. "Speaking of which, I'd better go meet my new side-kick. Some kid's tagging along with me today."

"That should be interesting. What's the kid's name?" Daisy asks, taking a sip of her water.

"Daniel. And he'd better not get in my way."

"Screw the oatmeal…" George mutters, rolling her eyes and slipping out of the booth, "I'm out of here. I'm supposed to be on time for work today."

"Please tell me that I don't have to wear a bloody leotard…" Mason moans, putting down the post-it and staring and Roxy.

"Fine, then I just won't say it." She taps her police hat and glances over at Kiffany. He groans and bangs his head on the table.

&&At Happy Time&&

George sat with her cup her hands, swiveling around in her chair and looking slightly bemused. As usual, she was typing some useless information onto her computer and spinning around in her seat. She was wondering how Roxy would be handling the whole Daniel thing. And when she saw Delores heading her way with a little girl beside her, George nearly choked on her iced cappuccino.

"Millie," Mrs. Herbig announced with a grand smile, "I'd like you to meet Alyssa. She's visiting today for career day, and I'd like for you to show her how things are done around here."

Voiceover: Oh crap. What does she think I am - some kind of mentor? What the hell am I supposed to do with this kid? I could tell that this was going to be a very, very interesting day. And a long one, too, that's for sure.

(Voiceover pause) "Hi,"George stuttered as she looked over at the kid, shaking her hand with a confused sort of smile. Alyssa had a strong handshake.

"Well, we're all settled here. Keep up with the good work, Millie!" And then her boss bustled her way out of there, clutching her clipboard in excitement. Still confused, George sat down in her chair again, sipping her cappuccino and staring at the computer screen.

"So… um… What do you want to see?" She asked the girl, turning around slightly.

"I'm not really sure. I think that working here would be a good base job – you know, just for credentials and stuff." She opened a blue notebook with a bead design on the cover, writing something inside with an HB pencil.

"You've got it all planned out, haven't you?" George smiled, glancing over at her.

"Yep. But just enough so that I'll know what I'm doing when I get here. I definitely don't want to feel clueless or take a wrong turn." She was grinning, checking over the older girl's shoulder to see what she was typing.

"So, how old are you?" She asked the younger girl, eyes still on the screen.

"Eleven. I turn twelve in the summer."

Voiceover: I'm really starting to like this kid – she's got spunk, I'll admit that much. I wish I had been like her at her age. But what did I know then? I really hope she doesn't end up like I did.

(End voiceover) "That's cool. So I'm basically typing up some reports at the moment…"

"Can I help?"

"Sure." George was both surprised and glad. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad having Alyssa around after all. Plus her work would get done faster – and maybe Delores would let her off so she could do her reaper duties.

&&Sola's Ballet Institution&&

Mason stared at the post-it for one last time before opening the door. A large wooden floor stretched the length of the room, complete with shining mirrors and wooden bars on the walls. An older woman who seemed to be running the studio made her way over. She was wearing a dark pink dance suit, her red hair pulled into a neat ponytail.

"Can I help you?" She asked, staring at what he was wearing with a grimace.

"Um, yes, actually… I was wondering if maybe, you know, I could take a course or something?" he sputtered, looking around. Four girls stood beside the bars in pink ballet costumes, muttering to each other and laughing. He crossed his arms, biting down hard on his tongue and wondering to himself how he had gotten into this situation.

"If you like, you can join the class. Just for today." There was a hint of amusement in her voice. He nodded and made his way over to the where the other girls were waiting.

He squinted slightly, looking down at the blonde beside him. "How old are you? Eight?"

"Nine." She answered with a glare, and then turned back to the teacher. The other three were whispering to each other and giving him looks.

"What's your name?" He asked, thinking of the name of his reap.

"Sam. Sam Arbeger." He smiled at her and held out his palm, face up.

"Give me luck, Sam Arbeger." She slapped it, a ghostly glow emanating from her hand.

"All right, settle down." The ballet teacher told them, waiting for them to stop. She turned back to Mason. "We're just doing positions. Watch the other girls. One and two and three and four…"

Mason hurried to keep pace with them, nearly tripping over his feet. He gave a grunt and struggled to figure out what he was doing – and how to even do it at all. This was definitely not his day. Next were the leg movements – back and forth, side and in…

"You aren't pointing your foot," The red-head told him, shaking her head. She leant down and pulled it back.

He fell down, biting his lip to stop himself from crying out. She went back to her position. He was in relative pain for the next five minutes, his face held tight as he continued. He looked up. Nobody else noticed the graveling hanging from the lights and glaring down mischievously. Nobody but him.

All of a sudden, one of the light fixtures fell, knocking Sam to the ground. Blood ran from her head and gathered in a pool by her arms. The others were screaming and rushing over in shock. Sam wasn't moving.

Mason took this as his chance to leave, and so he limped out, a pained look still on his face. In the hallway, Sam's soul just stared at the door with wide eyes.

"Was that me?" She asked, mouth hanging open. He nodded and her hazel eyes traveled to his face for a moment.

"You died. You're dead. Come with me, I'll show you where to go…" She followed him down the hallway, too stunned to say anything else.

&&Lass Household&&

Reggie slumped down angrily on the couch, staring at J.D. with her head in her hands. "You never let me do anything!" She complained, staring at her mother through her glasses.

"Reggie, you can't wear make-up yet! You're just too young for that!" Her mother reasoned, rummaging through her purse in agitation. "Where are my keys…"

A jingle could be heard and the woman left the living room in a rush. The front door slammed shut. "She never lets me do anything at all," she said aloud, knowing that the only one to hear her was the dog, "it was the same with getting contacts. I'll bet Dad would let me get them…"

She sighed in aggravation, leaning backwards and pulling her hair behind her ears. "At this rate, I'm going to be ugly for the rest of my life."

&&At The Park&&

Daisy walked along the winding path, the breeze blowing gently in her face. She checked her watch. It was just minutes until showtime. There didn't seem to be much of anyone there at the moment. She sighed and sat down on a nearby bench, staring up at a weeping willow. She barely noticed the old woman beside her.

"I know you…" The old woman said, turning to Daisy. "I know you… You're Daisy Adaire."

She turned to look the woman in the eye. "No, I'm not, sorry. You must have me confused with someone else."

"No..." The woman shook her head, "you died in the production of a movie. I remember – my dad was waiting to see that movie. You're a ghost."

Daisy felt a bit unnerved, but wouldn't let the woman know. "What's your name?" She asked, eyes drifting back to the trees.

"Jane Saunders. I remember coming here when I was young… It's changed so much around here. Everything changes. Sometimes I wish they would just stay the same for once."

Daisy nodded, and put her hand on Jane's shoulder to take her soul. Jane checked her watch, and then got up. She was just walking onto the path when a man on a bike came along – too fast to stop in time. Daisy looked away as he hit her, falling off the bike and onto the grass.

Sometimes Daisy just wished that she didn't have to see things like this every day. The actress walked on, eyes scanning the sky and watching the clouds.

Overview: We're never really where we want to be in life – our eyes are just always somewhere else. Sometimes it takes somebody else to make us realize and focus on the now. But still it's so much easier to look everywhere else. (End overview)

&&The Waffle House&&

The five reapers sat at their usual spot once more, less people around them than there had been before.

"I can't move my bloody foot at all… How am I supposed to walk anywhere like this? This isn't fucking fair…" Mason complained loudly, a grimace still visible on his face. Roxy laughed, shaking her head in disbelief.

"I still can't believe you did that, Mason. I wish I could have seen your face…"

"Yeah? Well, you're seeing it now. Leave me alone for God's sake!"

George smiled, glancing between them. "How was Daniel?"

"Impulsive. Loud. Wouldn't shut up." The policewoman answered, smiling, "he was cute. He'll make a fine addition to the force someday."

She smiled, remembering the eleven-year-old who had accompanied her that morning. It really did go better than she thought it would.

"What are we going to do about the waffle house?" Daisy asked, directing her question mainly to Rube. He shrugged.

"Find a new place. There's not much else that we can do." He reasoned sensibly. She nodded in understanding and let out a sigh.

"Wait, what?" George butted in, loud enough for the half of the world to hear. She glanced between the two of them in confusion.

"The waffle house is closing, peanut. Read it on a sign by the door this morning."

Kiffany stopped by with a stare at George. "Is everything all right over here?"

"Is the waffle house closing?" She exclaimed again, completely incredulous.

Daisy twirled her drinking straw around and Mason was holding his leg under the table in pain. Rube and Roxy were listening intently.

She nodded, still confused. "You're always at this one, so I don't see how this really affects you, though…"

Daisy looked up from her straw. "What do you mean, 'this one'?"

"They're closing the waffle house a few blocks down – it's a part of our chain."

The four of them stared at Rube, saying nothing.

"Well, I guess that's my mistake for being misinformed." He stated, nodding at Kiffany. With a sigh, he left.

"Was that Rube's attempt at a joke?" Mason asked, glancing between the others.

"Could be," Roxy scratched her arm. Daisy was drumming her fingers on the table again. "Mary Sue, what'd I tell you before about the wood-work? It's starting to tick me off."

"Hmmm… I never got my blueberry pancakes this morning." The actress mused, holding her fingers still. "They were out of blueberries."

Overview: Who knows what makes us all want to be somewhere else? Probably seeing all of those people who seem better off than you do. I guess being dead has its perks; you're forced to focus on the people who aren't always better off. You realize – hey, it's not so bad to be where I am… It's not all that bad to be dead like me.


End file.
